Within the Darkness
by Mercy-chan
Summary: A fantasy twist to our beloved tale.  Erik is placed under a curse from the gypsies and Christine may be the only one who can save his soul.  AU
1. Chapter 1

Within the Darkness

By: Mercy-chan

A/N: This is a fantasy twist to our beloved tale. I do not want to spoil the surprises, so please enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own POTO who obviously belong to ALW and Leroux.

The darkness blanketed the room like black velvet. Nothing existed in this dark place; nothing except for a solitary figure in the corner with a glowing candle. Mournful golden eyes stared at the small mirror in front of them as shadows danced across a black mask.

"Christine" the phantom sighed as it traced the mirror with skeletal fingers. The mirror glowed eerily as an image of a small child appeared. The girl in the reflection was pale with curly brown hair and sparkling brown eyes.

"That child will never love you. Have you seen your face?" another voice whispered from the darkness with a cold laugh. Golden eyes instantly closed in anguish as tears fell to the floor. The mirror went black.

-;-

"Christine" the wind sighed as a cold wind swept past the unsuspecting child. Christine bolted upright from picking a flower and looked around her frantically. A shiver ran down her spine and she quickly got to her feet to begin her trek home. These strange occurrences had happened all her life as far as she could remember. Her named sighed by the wind, the feeling of being watched and a constant presence in the darkness. Storm clouds rumbled in the distance signifying an oncoming storm. Christine quickened her pace as she walked along the familiar path back to the small cottage she shared with her father. Upon reaching the entrance of the cottage Christine burst through the door and greeted her father loudly.

"Papa I'm home!" she called excitedly. Gustave Daae was startled out of his stupor by the entrance of his darling child.

"Christine! Do not give your poor papa such a fright! This old heart of mine is fragile" he teased as warmth filled his eyes. He smiled as a blush touched his daughters cheeks but quickly turned away as a wracking cough assaulted his lungs. Christine quckly dropped her flowers on the table and ran to kitchen; quickly returning with a goblet of water.

"Here Papa drink slowly" Christine whispered sadly. She rested her small hand on his back as he drank greedily from the cup. When the cup was empty Gustave handed the cup back to Christine and leaned back in his chair.

"Good girl. You are always taking such good care of me" he whispered as he gazed at his beautiful daughter. It pained him to look at those soft eyes and curly brown hair. It made his heart heavy to remember his late wife as he gazed at his only child. Christine caught his sad glances and captured his hand in hers.

"You will feel better in no time Papa. Then we can return to the sea and share picnics with Raoul. It will be wonderful! You rest here while I gather something for dinner" she said as she released his hand slowly. She bent down to kiss his forehead before pulling away quickly. His skin was burning up and his pale skin served to remind her of his mortality. With a heavy heart she dragged herself away from her father and brushed away a tear.

-;-

Dinner was a sad affair as Christine ate in silence across from her father. Gustave was dozing off in his chair as his soup turned stone cold in front of him. Christine encouraged him to eat to keep up his strength but Gustave simply pushed it away.

"Come Christine do not look so sad. I will eat tomorrow I promise. Please go put away the dishes and once you have returned I will play the violin for you" Gustave promised. Christine suddenly lit up and she immediately gathered the forgotten food into the kitchen. Gustave chuckled lightly before leaning forward as spasms of coughs rose from his chest. Slowly they subsided and he glanced up to see Christine holding out a small vial him.

"Time for you medicine Papa. I know you did not take it today" she said with a reprimanding look. Gustave sighed as he took the small vial from his daughters expectant hands. He simply wished to throw the vial in the trash and tell his daughter that it would not save him from death. As he looked up into her eyes he swallowed his protests and drank a small portion of the bitter liquid. It burned down his throat as he corked it and thrust it back to Christine's hands. She smiled in gratitude and disappeared into the kitchen.

"What would you like me to play my dear?" he called as she walked back into the room. Christine sat on the floor next to his feet trying to get warm next to the fire. It was freezing and the wind outside wailed through the thin walls. Neither daughter nor father noticed this because this was their world of comfort and safety.

"Anything would be wonderful father…I have not heard you play for some time" Christine said as she looked at the violin with longing. As her father tested the string to bring the instrument to tune she allowed her mind to wander. Nights such as this with her father playing softly and an amazing voice mingling with the tunes. Christine remembered little of her mother but music was one thing this family lived and breathed. Gustave always told Christine that she had gained her angelic voice from her mother. The first stirrings of the violin filled the room and Christine's soul was lifted away.

"Sing for me child" Gustave whispered as he let the music envelop him. All the woes of the world melted away as Christine's angelic voice filled the room. The hours flew away as father and daughter reveled in each others company. Music was played and stories were told of distant and magical places.

-;-

Christine opened her eyes slowly as her blurred vision began to focus. Gustave gently pushed Christine's head off of his knee and helped her to her feet. The fire was slowly dying into calm embers and the room had begun to chill. Christine shivered as she rubbed her arms and looked at her father in concern.

"You really should be in bed Papa. It is much to cold in here" she said as she moved to help her father stand. Gustave shook his head as he gazed back at the fire.

"I would like to sit for a while longer my child…give your father a hug and run off to bed" Gustave said as he turned to embrace his daughter. Christine flew into his arms with a giggle and he held her tightly. His eyes blurred with tears as he held his precious child desperately.

"Oh Papa enough already! It is not like I will not see you in the morning!" Christine laughed as she untangled herself from his arms. Gustave felt his heart clench as her words. If only she knew; the poor child. Christine smiled at her father one last time before turning to walk to her room. A sudden chill swept past her and she immediately looked to the right at the mirror hanging on the wall. A pair of yellow eyes flashed before her vision and she immediately jumped back into the wall. She blinked several times as she stared at her reflection in the mirror but she could see nothing except herself and the light from the fireplace.

"Are you alright child?" Gustave asked as he saw her trembling. Christine nodded and walked slowly to her room before shutting the door behind her. Gustave was no fool, he had seen the eyes flash in the mirror. He had been a fool to make a deal with that devil all those years ago. That devil in the black mask. Gustave slowly pulled out an aged paper from his robe and unraveled it slowly. This paper had been signed 8 years ago by his own hand. Gustave crumpled the paper into his hand and thrust it into the fire angrily.

"You can have my soul demon but I will not let you have my daughter" he growled as he watched the paper slowly sizzle and curl. Gustave leaned back heavily in his chair and took rasping breaths as his heart beat began to slow. His vision began to blur and he sent a prayer to God to protect his daughter now that she was free from that retched contract. His breathing grew ragged and he began to smile as the pain left gradually. The thought of seeing his wife again allowed him to finally let go. Knowing he would be at peace and that his Christine would be safe, Gustave Daae took his last breath.


	2. Chapter 2

Within the Darkness

By: Mercy-chan

A/N: This is a fantasy twist to our beloved tale. Sorry for such the long delay but this story is too good to leave alone! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own POTO who obviously belong to ALW and Leroux

Christine sighed softly as she fiddled with the hem of her translucent ballet skirt. The loud rapping of Madame Giry's cane against the wood floor of the stage sounded distant to her ears. For months Christine had been in a daze since the passing of her father. Madame Giry had come to take her to Paris two days after her father had died. It was eerie the way the woman had shown up at her door; an intimidating figure dressed in black and a knowing look in her dark eyes.

"Christine Daae! I will not tell you again! One more mistake and you will be not have supper!" Madame Giry shouted as Christine was broken from her musings. She glanced towards the stage and saw the other girls halfway through the ballet act in Scene II. She quickly ran to her spot and looked to Meg Giry in front of her. The blond was finishing a perfect pirouette and Christine stumbled into the next move with some difficulty. Christine knew she wasn't meant for the ballet but she had little choice now that she had no one left except Meg and Madame. Singing to her father's portrait in the small chapel would sustain her in the years to come. Singing upon the stage had been a dream that both Christine and her father had shared for her future. Without her father, Christine felt that dream slipping between her fingers day by day. At the tender age of 13, Christine had lost her dreams and the only person she believed could make them soar. What was left for a young girl with no dreams?

3 months ago

_Christine sobbed loudly as she buried her small face into the unmoving shoulder of her father. She had discovered him only moments ago and he hadn't turned to her with that warm, welcoming smile she was used to every morning. The house was dark and only a few dying embers remained alight in the hollow fireplace. Eventually Christine calmed down and moved away to look at her father in the dim morning light coming from the window. He looked so peaceful and calm; better than he had in years past. Christine almost felt relief for a brief moment seeing him at peace but that feeling quickly passed. How could he leave her alone? She had no one else in this world! Christine began to tug earnestly on her father's arm as selfish need drove her to awaken him from his peaceful rest. Panic consumed the small girl and she began to feel she shadows darkening. They felt like they were reaching for her and a sudden chill brushed the back of her neck as if someone was standing directly behind her. _

"_Christine!" a voice shrieked in her ear. Christine spun around and wildly looked around her. Flickering light was eerily creeping into the room from the hallway. A beautiful humming began to fill her ears and she felt her feet moving towards the heavenly sound. It was a song she knew well; her mother had sung that song to her many nights as a baby. The closer she got to the hallway the flickering candle light grew dimmer and the humming grew fainter. Christine's heart beat wildly against her chest and her breath misted upon exiting her mouth. Her footsteps creaked against the floorboards and she padded slowly into the hallway warily. _

"_Mama? Papa?" Christine barely whispered. Her throat felt tight and parched as she came to face the mirror from the night before. The humming was now completely silent and the dim candle was flickering inside the mirror. There was no candle sitting atop the mantle in front of the mirror and Christine stared in wonder and fright at the magical sight. She instantly remembered the eyes from the night before and immediately flattened herself against the side of the opposite wall. The reflection that met her stare was a pale, frightened girl. Her curls hung limply about her shoulders and her bony limbs shook with exhaustion. The numbing silence in the hall began to echo around her and she began to hum the lullaby that the heavenly voice had summoned her with. Her senses came back to her swiftly when she saw the candle in the mirror flare dangerously. Someone had to have walked past the candle to cause it to flicker. _

_Christine pushed off the wall and took one step forward. She saw the outline of a dark figure slowly materializing in the mirror right next to her. She immediately snapped her neck to look left but nothing was next to her except shadows. She turned her attention back to the mirror only to realize that the showy figure appeared larger; as if it was moving closer towards the mirrors surface. Christine couldn't swallow past the lump in her throat as she took a few more steps closer. The black shadow in the mirror seemed to lean closer as Christine approached cautiously. Her hand came up slowly and began to move closer to the mirror. Her breath ceased in her chest and her eyes were fixated on the black shadow drawing closer to the surface in front of her. One, two, three…the beats of her heart thudded painfully as her anxiety increased. She drew closer and touched the edge of the mirror where the shadow seemed to be lingering. The surface burned her hand and she pulled away with a gasp. The surface of the mirror rippled like water and the shadow lurched forward towards Christine. She screamed in fright as a black face emerged as if by magic. A black mask shaped like a human face pressed against the mirror and golden eyes burned through the eye sockets like fire. Christine screamed again and grabbed the nearest object to hurl at the mirror. She threw it with all her might and watched as the horrifying image shattered into a million pieces. The hallway instantly went dark and a whisper followed Christine as she ran from the house. _

"_Christine."_

The mess hall was filled with the chatter of the corps ballet and the other Opera workers as supper was served. The quietest section of the hall was the younger ballet girls as they whispered quietly to one another. Christine sat near the end of the table and played idly with her food as she got lost in her head. The voice and the burning eyes still haunted her dreams even though she hadn't looked into a mirror since that day.

"Christine…Christine. Christine!" a small voice yelled from beside her. Meg Giry was smiling at her and shaking her shoulder roughly. "Come back to Earth and tell me where you went!" the blond headed girl said with a laugh. Christine smiled at her and began to talk quietly about that days rehearsal. Meg was a year younger than Christine and one of the few dancers who spoke with her. Christine mostly kept to herself and spent most of her time in the chapel with her father's portrait. Meg had told Christine of her own father's passing when she was young and the girls had bonded.

"Time to run along to bed!" a stern voice yelled at the end of the table. The imposing figure of Madame Antoinette Giry stood there with cane looking expectantly at the young dancers at the table. The ballet rats instantly jumped at her command and began to file out of the doors towards the dorms. Meg instantly went to stand beside her mother and they set off after the other dancers as Christine joined them at the door. Young voices filled with once empty halls and Christine was thankful for the noise. She could no longer stand the silence for it left her feeling frightened and alone.

"Christine" a voice slithered past her ear and she stopped suddenly. She recognized that voice all too well and her heart sped up. That angelic voice made her love it and hate it at the same time. The voice soothed her but she instantly remembered the black mask and the burning eyes. The voices of the ballet girls grew fainter and Christine frantically stepped in the direction to catch up with them. Safety lay with the other girls and Antoinette Giry down the brightly lit hallway. Christine was halfway in the middle of bursting into a run when she suddenly heard the strings of a violin beginning to play. She immediately stopped and felt her hand fly to her mouth as tears filled her eyes. That was her father's violin playing; it had to be. No one could play like her beloved Papa.

"Papa!" she shouted as she immediately plunged into a dark passageway further down the hall. The violin sounds grew fainter as she came upon a door leading into a fancy dressing room. The room had recently been remodeled for a new diva taking the stage in just a few weeks' time. She nervously opened the door and peered into the room. A full length mirror stood against the far wall and Christine saw the same flickering candle just like the other mirror in her small cottage home. Fear flared through her mind as she saw the same shadowed figure emerge from beside the candle. Golden eyes flared to life and it extended its arm towards her in a welcoming gesture. Christine cautiously stepped into the room and immediately an angelic voice filled the room. Her eyes widened and she rushed forward without a second thought. Gone was her fear and anxiety towards this frightening enigma in the mirror. This must be the Angel of Music her father had sent to her from heaven! Even though this angel was frightening; no earthly being could possess a voice such as this!

"Come to me child" the voice coaxed gently. Christine stepped forward timidly and exhaled a shaky breath before placing her hand against the mirrors surface. It hummed and rippled under her touch and for a moment a warm feeling filled her. Wonder overtook her and for a moment those golden eyes held her captivated. Her dreamlike trance ended abruptly as a skeletal hand burst through the mirror and grasped her wrist. Christine let out a cry of fright and grasped desperately at the bony hand to free herself. She shivered as she touched the cold, pale skin of the hand pulling her forcefully towards the mirror. The stench of rotting flesh filled her senses and her tears poured down her face as her arm was yanked halfway through the mirrors surface. Her free hand grasped the edge of the golden framed mirror and she grit her teeth as her frail strength began to fail miserably. Her shoulder descended into the warm surface of the mirror. Christine forced herself to look into the burning eyes of the phantom and icy terror filled her. Mad obsession filled those haunting depths as the unnatural strength continued to pull her forward.

"Help!" she managed to cry as her fingers slowly began to peel away from the edge. Her pitiful sobbing increased as the last of her strength began to fail her. A sudden gust of wind caught her off guard and she heard the phantom in the mirror give an angered cry before she was forcefully pushed back onto the ground. The mirror swung open with great force and hit the wall beside it with a deafening bang. Christine immediately scrambled backwards on her back as she looked to the place where the mirror had once been. Candles glowed eerily from a cavernous hallway and the mirror creaked as it swayed slowly back and forth from the forceful opening. A tall figure stood quietly in the entrance and Christine continued to scoot back until her back hit the wall. The candles behind the figure lit one side of his impressive figure and she saw a white mask contoured to the hard places of his face. Other features were obscured but she could see the hard emerald of his eye burning within the mask. A sob escaped her throat as the silence engulfed her and the figure straightened even taller as he leaned forward, hunching over like a grotesque gargoyle.

"Boo" sounded right in Christine's ear. She flinched backward and hit her head hard against the door behind her. She scrambled onto her feet in record speed and thrust herself through the door without a second thought.

"Poor little Christine Daae" a silky voice hummed with amusement and pity. The cloaked figure moved gracefully towards the mirror and closed it silently behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

Within the Darkness

Chapter 3

By: Mercy-chan

A/N: This is a fantasy twist to our beloved tale. If you have any questions or anything feel free to drop me a line! I would like a Beta in the near future or just someone to bounce ideas off of so don't be shy!

Disclaimer: I do not own POTO who obviously belong to ALW and Leroux

;;

The opera house creaked and groaned as the early morning hours passed slowly. No sounds were heard from the empty halls as most of the occupants slept peacefully. Two muffled voices were heard from the ballet dormitories as they spoke from under a heavy comforter. Meg Giry spoke in an excited and awed whisper as Christine Daae spoke with a trembling lilt as she relayed her story of earlier that night. Christine had run into Meg's bed with a wild abandon and had thrown the covers over their heads. The pale girl had grabbed the blonde's hands and had trembled violently for several minutes before calming.

"So you met the Opera Ghost? Oh Christine! How frightening!" Meg said with an excited giggle. Only a few had glimpsed the famous spirit that lurked the halls, including her mother.

"Meg! How can you be excited at a time like this? I was so scared!" Christine whispered with shock. She had told Meg about the figure that had emerged from behind the mirror in her time of need. She hadn't told her friend about the phantom in the mirror. Christine had started to question if she was going mad from the grief of losing her father.

"Christine, do not worry so much! The Opera Ghost only plays harmless tricks. Thankfully the only thing frightening about this spirit is his burning eyes and the death head behind its mask" Meg said with a reassuring squeeze to Christine's hands. Christine grew puzzled as she contemplated Meg's description of the ghost. He hadn't looked like he had possessed a death's head; the phantom in the mirror had been a frightening specter with the burning eyes and skeletal hands. Christine could still remember the cold, almost dead flesh gripping her skin. She shuddered violently and delved deeper into her friend's covers to seek comfort.

"There there Christine! As long as we remain good little ballerinas and work hard the ghost shall only play small tricks on us. Maman has even scared off that mean ghost several times with her mean glare that she gives us when we are late" Meg said with a giggle. Christine opened one eye to glance at her friend and an amused smile replaced her worried features.

"Oh Meg you are horrible!" she giggled behind her hand. Meg began giggling as well and they soon realized they had stopped whispering some time ago.

"Do be quiet! We have an early day once Madame comes to wake us!" Jammes whispered scathingly. Jammes was one of the oldest ballerinas in the company and was rumored to be the next prima ballerina. Christine and Meg immediately quieted and looked at each other soberly from being caught. Both knew that they would get an earful from Antoinette in the morning for their behavior; it wasn't the first time Jammes had tattled on them. Both shared a look as they pictured the stern glare of Antoinette Giry and their giggles floated about the room. Several more ballerinas spoke their displeasure at being awakened and it took several minutes more before Christine and Meg finally drifted into a contented slumber.

;;

A dark figure stood outside the door of the dormitories as he listened to the giggles slowly fade into silence. He cocked his head to the side and swiftly turned down a dark passageway as he contemplated new tricks to play on the ballerinas. So his tricks were childish were they? He would have to concoct new pranks to send the little girls under their covers in fright. The little Daae girl was an easy target to scare and he felt a childish pride swell within his chest. To have frightened her in less than a minute was a new record for him but with more thought he began to realize that she was only a child still. Children scared more easily than most of the staff he haunted in his leisurely hours. He gave a frustrated sigh and quickly came to a stop in front of an ordinary wall. A quick swipe of his hand against one of the wooden panels quickly made the wall shift open.

"I must make more of these" he whispered to himself in satisfaction. The Lord had cursed him with an abominable face but he knew his genius was unrivaled. The books Antoinette had brought him over the years had aided him greatly in understanding the world around him. From engineering to the exotic lands of Persia, he had consumed all this knowledge hungrily over the years. Once Antoinette had brought him into the opera house as a child; he had only traveled from the from beyond its walls only once. He knew humanity would never accept him; those gypsies had treated him no better than an animal.

"Never again!" he suddenly yelled angrily as the shadows of his past slowly crept into his mind. He pushed away at the madness slowly building inside him and took asteadying breath. It would do him no good to dwell upon such things. He squinted slightly as he made a sharp right towards his home. He heard the gentle lapping of the lake and his nerves began to calm as he yearned for the sweet release of music. His organ was patiently waiting for him and he would not deny her his attention. Just as he made the final steps to reach the gondola, he noticed a slim figure sitting in the boat with a small candle dancing in her hands.

"Antoinette…what a lovely surprise" he said in a husky voice. His voice was otherworldly to anyone hearing it for the first time but Antoinette had heard it many times over the years.

"Erik" she said with an enigmatic smile. She knew he did not appreciate random visits while he was out haunting the opera but she enjoyed his company immensely when he was not throwing his frightening tantrums.

"What brings you to my humble cellar?" he asked with a weary sigh. The interruption of his escape into music was greatly wearing on his nerves. He hopped heavily into the gondola and made it wobble dangerously in the water. Antoinette cursed violently and held desperately to the edge of the boat until the rocking subsided. Feeling tremendously better for throwing the ballet mistress into a fright, he grabbed the pole with new vigor and began rowing them across the underground lake.

"I ask that you never do that again! No matter how upset you are!" she shouted. Erik lost all humor as he gazed at her terror stricken face. It took a lot to shake this fierce woman and Erik stared at her seriously.

"I would never allow you to be harmed by the phantom Antionette. Believe me in this and never doubt my word" he said with angry glare. He had promised her this many times before and she always seemed to forget; but how good was the word of a murderer? He smiled at the irony.

"I do not doubt you Erik…only I have seen what the phantom is capable of. I…have seen him use his siren's song to lure people under the water…" she was cut off abruptly as a heavenly voice drifted out of the water. It seemed as if a siren were singing to the weary passengers gliding across its water. Antoinette felt her mind begin to turn hazy and she followed the voice so that she was peering over the side of the boat into the dark waters. She saw her reflection clearly and the water rippled in response to her gaze.

"Antoinette!" Erik called in frustration. No matter how many times he had taken her across this lake, she always fell into the spell. She immediately snapped her attention back to Erik and blinked repeatedly as her eyes once again focused. The gondola reached the shore moments later and the siren's voice immediately stopped singing. Erik sneered angrily and glanced at Antoinette and the bags at her feet.

"Bring those inside" he said with finality. He moved with inhuman grace towards the door to his home and with several clicks he disappeared inside. Antoinette huffed indignantly and grabbed the heavy bags of supplies quickly. Being by the lake by herself sent chills of fear through her. This place was truly filled with magic, five cellars beneath the opera house. The magic was a dark magic that filled her with dread, not wonder. Luckily she picked up the bags with ease from her years as a ballerina and rolled her eyes as she walked towards the door. Erik truly was an infuriating man at times.

"Erik I received the supplies and books you asked for" she said as she entered the house. Her eyes immediately fell on his lean back as he stood in front of the mirror. Usually the mirrors were covered by large sheets but he was staring into them intently. Antoinette knew what lurked on the other side of the mirror and she immediately dropped the bags to get a cup of tea from the kitchens. She had never been a superstitious woman but the shadows she had seen in the mirrors had chilled her to the bone for years.

"Antionette! I asked for a first edition copy you useless woman!" an irritated voice called from the other room. It echoed eerily around the small alcove she stood in. She sighed as she continued to boil the water over the small fire pit in the corner. She walked into the room and her eyes crinkled in amusement as she watched Erik look through the pile of books in childish joy. The phantom in the mirror was linked to this reclusive man child but Antoinette could not abandon him. She had brought him here as a child and she intended to look after him as he had looked over Meg as a small child.

"You are welcome Erik" she said in an amused tone. He turned the masked side of his face towards her and waved his hand in her direction as if to dismiss her. She knew not to be offended because she saw a small smile play across his lips in response.

Several hours later, Antoinette startled awake with a sudden jolt. She was lying upon the seat in the sitting room and the fire had died out completely. The room was filled with a bone chilling cold and she fully came to her senses as she heard voices behind her.

"Bring me the Daae child, Erik! She was promised to be mine!" an ethereal voice hissed angrily. Antoinette quickly sat up the moment she heard Christine's name and looked towards the voice. The sheets on the mirrors were rustling as if someone was moving about behind them. Twin circles of yellow glowed behind the sheets and Antoinette knew the phantom was lurking, restless within the mirror.

"The child is of no significance! Promise or not, I will not hand her over to a monster!" Erik's voice shouted back in a vicious snarl.

"Monster? Look in the mirror, monsieur!" the phantom said with cruel laugh. "If you will not assist me, I will lure her to me with my music. She is in need of an angel in this lonely place."

"YOUR MUSIC? It is our music! You would be nothing without me!" Erik shouted as he rose to his feet. The bench underneath him fell over violently and the crash echoed around the room. The phantom gave a woeful sigh and the eyes disappeared leaving the mirror deathly still. "I know you can hear me Phantom! Mark my words! I will not allow you to touch the girl! She is of little interest to me but I will not allow you to harm her as you did…Luciana" Erik said painfully. Nothing but silence met his response and he ran a shaky hand through his hair. He turned slightly to glance at Antoinette and the woman felt bile rise into her throat. What did that monster want with Christine?

;;

Hello readers! I hope you are enjoying the story! Please be patient, it will be several chapters before Erik and Christine meet again. Thank you and please review!


	4. Chapter 4

Within the Darkness

Chapter 4

By: Mercy-chan

A/N: This is a fantasy twist to our beloved tale.

Disclaimer: I do not own POTO who obviously belong to ALW and Leroux

A lone figure was hunched over a small writing table, scribbling furiously on aged parchment. Next to this figure sat a monkey figurine that swayed slowly, back and forth, a haunting melody streaming forth as it echoed off the tomb walls. The parchment held scribbled notes in childish handwriting and long chains of beautiful music scattered across it. The Phantom narrowed his eyes at the scroll of paper and swept his arm across the table with a fierce snarl of rage. Everything fell to the floor with a great crash as it pierced the silence that always surrounded him.

"It will never be good enough! I must have her, she is my muse. Only with her sweet voice will I be able to make my song take flight. Oh Christine..." he sighed as he ran a hand down the cool leather of his black mask. He was truly cursed in this world inside the mirrors. To be able to look upon her face but not be in her presence was truly hell. Once he had a hold of her, he could drag her into his world and never release her. He had been promised that he would have Christine as his own. The Phantom slowly turned his face towards the single mirror in the center of his dark chamber.

"I will have you Christine! Just you wait…I will have you in my world soon enough. You will see to it that I do Erik…you cannot deny the Phantom," the dark entity whispered as he glided towards the mirror. He pressed a skeletal hand to the surface and looked towards the other side beyond his prison. The other world began to materialize but he caught a glimpse of two yellow eyes staring out from the darkness back at him. Dark obsession was swirling behind those golden depths.

A dark shape moved through the halls with a heavy stride. This ghost meant to be heard tonight for he was in a foul mood. The Phantom had been growing more restless in the last two months upon Christine Daae's arrival. Erik swiftly turned a corner and banged on the door with a swift fist. There had once been giggling coming from behind the door but now only silence greeted him. He gave a maniacal laugh that reverberated off the walls and through the empty hallways. Muffled cries of surprise and the shuffling of feet reached his sensitive ears further down the hall.

"Run little rats" he whispered as he heard the scurrying of little padded feet from the left. He quickly stalked in that direction to frighten the little rats back to bed. It amazed him how brave the little ballerina's sometimes were to venture into the dark halls. They knew a ghost lurked in the shadows but he knew his pranks were always childish in nature so most of his victims were only given a small fright. No one had actually had a glimpse of him except for the stage hand, Joseph Buquet. He had seen Erik in a heated debate with the Phantom in a dark corner of the prop and costume closet. The sight had truly scarred the man and the wild tales of a deaths head and fiery, burning eyes were born.

"He is here, the Opera Ghost!" came the elated and scared voices of a small group of girls further up the hall. Erik took heavier footsteps to give the impression of following closely behind the girls and they hurriedly raced into a door meters ahead of them. He saw one of the girls throw a small object down the hall before the door was slammed shut and locked. Curiosity piqued, Erik strode over to the small object and crouched down next to it. He narrowed his eyes and saw a dark outline of a small portrait. An older man was staring solemnly up at him and Erik felt a rush of recognition overwhelm him. He had seen those brown eyes before; although the ones he knew were dull and tired. He swiftly picked up the small portrait and looked at the faded paint. Erik snarled in anger as he swiftly rose to his feet and headed down the hall towards the small chapel.

"Oh little Sorelli, you have been a naughty girl" he said with icy chill in his tone. Erik knew the other girls had been bullying the little Daae but he had ignored it. She was another chorus girl that would soon get lost in the background. As much as he told himself she was just another girl in the Opera House, he felt a certain draw to her. She wasn't pretty or bubbly; if he was honest she was rather plain and boring. Christine was all awkward limbs and gawky as a teenager. He felt a certain tingle whenever she would look his way though; it felt as if he had had those brown eyes on him before. A memory was on the horizon in the back of his mind but he could not recall why this girl would be involved in his memories.

Erik felt an uncomfortable feeling wrap around his heart as he squeezed the portrait in his hand. If he had stopped the bullying when she first came here, she wouldn't be facing the harshness of the other girls. The fact that they had taken her father's portrait made Erik seethe with anger. He swiftly opened the door and stepped into the small cathedral, intent on putting the portrait back. He stopped suddenly when he glimpsed a figure curled in a ball on the floor. He immediately knew the ball was Christine and he could see that she was trembling from being on the cold ground. His vision altered and he glimpsed a small boy, beaten and bloodied lying on the ground. He was shivering and crying in a layer of filth and straw, so lonely and afraid. Erik immediately began to walk towards the small boy and reached out a hand with a desperate need to comfort the small child.

"Father" a small, feminine voice sighed. Erik jerked out of the vision and stumbled back a few steps as his hand came up to grasp his chest. His heart was beating violently against his ribs and he took several deep gulps of air to get his heart rate in check. It had been years since he thought of his life in the gypsy camp. So many memories of pain, humiliation, and so many other emotions a child should never have to suffer through. He could tell Christine was going to suffer through the same things; though not in the same brutal fashion he had been exposed to. Erik felt something building in his chest as he strode towards the front of the chapel. He placed the small portrait on the stand and waved his hand over the candle as it came to life. A soft light flickered filled the corner of the cathedral and Erik brought his eyes back to the huddled child on the floor.

"I will look after her and protect her while she is under my watch here in the Opera House" he swore under his breath. He traced her round face with his eyes and saw the tear tracks dried to her cheeks. He knew that she had come to talk with her father and had found his portrait gone. His anger returned and he knew the ballet girls would receive a personal visit from the Opera Ghost. Erik knew they all were jealous of the motherly affection that Madame Giry had bestowed upon the orphan when they lacked that relationship in their own lives. The ballet corps would soon learn that the ghost had taken Christine Daae under his wing. She would need protection in this world and from the supernatural being that stalked her from behind the mirrors.

Christine shifted uncomfortably on the floor and Erik cautiously approached her. He reached out a hand but pulled it back to his side at the last second. Did a monster deserve to touch such an innocent creature? The only other time he had been touched in his life was by his jailers in the camp. Shuddering at the nasty jeers that filled his head, he shook himself clear of the nightmares from the past. Erik cautiously reached a hand towards Christine and put it under her left shoulder. Intent on picking her up gently and taking her to her bed, he began to slide his hand under her back when Christine began to shift and opened her bleary eyes. Erik knew he had jostled her out of sleep and immediately dropped her to flee into the shadows. Christine fell to the floor and shouted in surprise when her head smacked against the stones behind her.

"Oof!" she shouted in pain. Christine dwelled for a moment on the pain before sitting upright frantically. There was a faint chill in the room and she allowed her frightened eyes to roam around the room. Upon seeing that there were no mirrors in the room, she gave a great sigh of relief. Noticing a soft light coming from the corner, she turned her head and saw the outline of her father's precious face in the portrait frame. She gave a cry of startled joy and clumsily got to her feet to rush towards the alter area. Happy tears began to pour down her face and she looked around in excited wonder.

"Thank you! Whoever you are, thank you so much!" she said with great radiance. Erik felt the breath leave his lungs as he stared at her bright eyes. Gone was the dull and pained look in her eyes. She shined with an inner beauty at her happiness and Erik felt his chest squeeze in affection. He would make sure she always remained happy because her smile was worth seeing. With a new resolve, Erik pushed along the walls and swiftly left the chamber as Christine kneeled down to pray for her father. Erik would need to inform Madame Giry of wondering ballet girls past curfew.

;;

Meg swung her legs against the side of the stage as she sighed with exhaustion. Her mother was being extra ruthless today because of the other girls' midnight escapades the previous day. Rehearsals weren't even close to being done and nothing seemed to impress her stoic mother. Meg had begun to notice differences in her mother's behavior. Antionette had been paying extra attention to Christine and Meg was beginning to feel the jealousy the others girls had been displaying. She understood deep down that her mother was only concerned for Christine. Meg had lost her own father at a young age although she didn't remember him. If she had lost her mother now, she would be just as lost and scared by herself. Christine sat next to her and gave Meg a small smile. She looked tired but there was a small light in her eyes that Meg noticed had been missing for months now. Meg was about to open her mouth when she saw a shadow pass over her from above. She turned around at the same time Christine did and looked up into the cold eyes of Sorelli.

"I am sorry about last night Christine…it won't happen again" Sorelli said with an angry tremble in her voice. The worlds sounded like a mix of anger and fear as Sorelli's eyes darted around in a paranoid fashion. She could still hear the dark whispers that crept out of the shadows around her bed last night. That hauntingly beautiful voice, scathing and dangerous as it surrounded and engulfed her in the darkness. The cursed name of Christine had been whispered in her ear and the threats of harming the other girl again made Sorelli faint with fright. The older girl knew it wasn't a dream and her future in the ballet was a stake if she continued to ignite the Ghost's wrath. Sorelli scurried away after throwing a glare back at the two younger girls.

Meg had grabbed Christine's hand during the exchange and she gave it a reassuring squeeze. Christine smiled in gratitude and looked up towards the flies in thought. Her eyes suddenly fell upon the ghost who had walked out from behind the mirror that night weeks ago. She saw the faint outline of a white mask and she saw him simply tilt his head to the left as if he were studying her. A chill of unease rushed through her and she allowed herself to blink for only a moment. He was gone before her eyes had readjusted.

A/N: Thanks for much for reading and please review! :D


	5. Chapter 5

Within the Darkness

Chapter 5

By: Mercy-chan

A/N: This is a fantasy twist to our beloved tale.

Disclaimer: I do not own POTO who obviously belong to ALW and Leroux

Christine lit the candle with great care as she kneeled in front of the small alter. It had been 5 months since she had first come to live in the Paris Opera House. This was a truly magical place and she had become somewhat content with her role on stage. Her father would scold her for not taking her rightful place as lead soprano but she didn't have the heart to sing anymore. The only time she had felt longing for music was when she heard the soft whispers of the Phantom's song in the mirror. Fear was beginning to turn to wonder as she continued to hear the soft whispers of a violin. The Phantom in the black mask still made her flesh crawl with dread but her curiosity was beginning to pique.

She had seen glimpses of the other Opera Ghost wondering the halls and her need to see him again was growing. Madame Giry had thrown her knowing glances when she missed her cue during rehearsals lately. Christine had been staring up into the flies hoping to catch a glimpse of a white mask or a fluttering cape. She was growing suspicious that Madame Giry knew more about this 'ghost' than anyone else did.

Just last night she had had an encounter with the Ghost while walking through the halls. Christine had a feeling the ghost had been following her through the halls either to play tricks on her or to act as a guardian angel. She had a feeling it was both because she did not hold the same fear she did months before.

;;

_The halls were pitch black as Christine walked back to her dormitory. Her lone candle cast enough light to allow her to walk straight without fear of tripping over a spare stage prop forgotten in the hall. She remembered Nicole, another girl in the chorus, was still recovering from a sprained ankle after tripping over a prop from the last production. Christine was so lost in her thoughts that she failed to notice the black cloak that brushed across her lighted path. She was pulled from her dazed state and came to a halt as she watched her candle flicker dangerously. Breath halted in her lungs as she gasped with fright and stood still in the middle of the corridor. She knew the dormitory was still quite a ways away so running would get her nowhere. _

"_Hello? Who is there?" Christine asked in a shaky voice. She glanced around nervously and waited for any sign of movement. A breeze ran across her back as if someone had walked past her quickly and she dropped her candle with a yelp. It landed with a bang and the light snuffed out. Christine continued to stand there and she felt a gentle tug on one of her curls. She whirled around in search of the source but she could find no one. Strangely she didn't feel the fear that she expected to feel here in the darkness. For the past 3 months now, she had felt this same presence close to her. It was as if this ghost was watching over her on her nightly strolls and when he brought her beloved father's portrait back. The gentle tug on her hair had almost been affectionate. _

"_Hello? Ghost? Angel?" she asked quietly. Almost in response to her soft inquiry, a light suddenly came on behind her. She turned around and saw her candle sitting upright, emitting blessed warmth that drew her to it immediately. She picked up the candle and held it in front of her. She saw a shadowed figure up ahead and it looked back at her with a white masked face. A masculine chuckle floated past her ear and she shivered at the almost human sound of it. _

"_Angel..indeed" the voice immediately grew frigid at the irony of her innocent question. Christine was frozen by the beautiful voice and the figure disappeared in the dramatic swirl of a cloak._

_;;_

Christine snapped out of the memory and pondered the white mask she had seen. This 'ghost' seemed too real and solid to be a wandering spirit. There was almost something childlike in the way the ghost had tried to startle her in the dark. The ghostly figure she has glimpsed twice now was definitely a grown male but the shadows had a way of playing tricks on the mind. She suddenly heard a throat clearing behind her and whirled around to see the stagehand, Joseph Buquet, standing in the entry way of the small chapel.

"It is a little late to be wondering these halls at night little rat" he said. Christine stood straighter to appear as if she wasn't scared but her heart was ready to beat out of her chest.

"Yes monsieur, I was just leaving," she said is a small voice. Christine focused her eyes on the wall behind his back and walked forward on wobbly legs. Fear was starting to cloud her mind and she didn't register that she could be walking straight into danger. She had seen this man leer at some of the older ballerinas during rehearsal so she wouldn't take her chances.

"Woah there girly, no need to leave so fast. We haven't had a chance to talk yet!" Buquet said as he stepped forward. His large frame filled the doorway and Christine saw her only chance of escape was suddenly futile.

"Please monsieur, I only came to pay respects to my father…please let me pass!" she said in a suddenly desperate voice. She retreated back a few steps and hunched into a ball as she began to weep loudly. She missed her father! She wanted to leave this horrible place and return to the simple days with her father by the sea. Minutes ticked by until suddenly, she heard a faint laughter coming from the drunk man still standing by the door.

"You little rats are so easy to scare! Believe me girly, I have the older girls for those activities. Although I am sure you will be a woman in no time" Buquet said with a lecherous grin. Christine felt a lump form in her throat and she couldn't swallow from the sick feeling welling in her stomach. This kind of dirty trick didn't make the ghost or the phantom look so bad in her eyes anymore. There might just be more horrible things that lurked in the dark with a normal face.

"What on Earth have you done?" a shrill voice screamed from the chapel entrance. Antoinette limped in and filled the room with a virtuous anger. Buquet took a drunken step back at the sudden intrusion and grinned lopsidedly at ballet mistress.

"No harm done Madame Giry, just telling ghost stories to the little rat out past her bedtime" he said with an easy confidence as he walked towards the door. Antoinette walked hurriedly towards Christine and pulled the fragile teenager to her feet. Antoinette checked the small girl for any foul play and rounded on the stage hand walking out the door.

"I will see to it that you are fired for this Buquet!" she screamed with poison laced in her words. She had seen some of her older ballerinas fall into the trap of sweet words from many men like him. She breathed a sigh of relief that Erik had been wandering the halls and had come informed her at once. She had seen a look of insanity in his eyes that she had never fathomed to see there. Christine was bringing out some primal feelings in Erik and Antoinette began to grow weary for the poor girl's safety. Should she be more worried about Erik or the Phantom?

Erik paced in his home beneath the opera house with seething fury. Never before had he been filled with such uncontrollable rage since the night he had escaped the gypsy camp. Killing Javert had been a sinful pleasure that Erik did not want to repeat for fear of that intense feeling of absolute power and bloodlust.

"How dare he even speak to her! I could have strangled him with my bare hands!" he spat before kicking over a table with several objects scattered on its surface. They went crashing to the floor and broke on the hard ground below.

"Come now Erik, tantrums will get you nowhere. I thought my Christine was of no interest to you?" a melodic voice asked from the shadows. Erik glanced at the dark mirrors in the corner and saw the yellow eyes staring at him from behind the curtain.

"Your Christine? I will not allow you to lay a hand on her!" Erik shouted. He moved swiftly toward the closest mirror and picked up a sculpture on a nearby table. He hurtled the statue at the mirror and it shattered into pieces. Erik felt a great feeling of triumph roar through his chest at this small victory but he knew it was short lived. The haunting eyes appeared in the mirror next to the shattered one.

"Temper temper Erik. You know that no matter how many mirrors you break, I will always be here with you. You and I are one in the same. You and I both want the same thing. You want Christine to be safe and I want her as my muse. Bring her to me and I will keep her safe here in my sanctuary of music," the Phantom said with a velvety tone. Erik felt his eye lids getting heavy; the Phantom had used this voice before many times when Erik was just a boy. It had calmed him, spun him in a web of dreams and illusion.

"I will not fall for your spells ever again Phantom! I believed you once and it nearly cost me everything!" Erik roared as he walked swiftly towards the mirror. He yanked the sheet from the mirror and stood several feet away to stare into the blackness. The Phantom's outline could be seen from the small candle lit next to him. The dark figure leaned forward and Erik started at the sight of the black mask contorted to resemble a human face. It had been years since he had stared upon the Phantom this way.

"Hello again Erik. Nice of you to finally come see me" the Phantom said with great relish. He had been lonely for so long; Erik was his only form of human contact in the long years of his imprisonment. The innocent victims he had lured into his lake had been ill fit to keep him company. He longed to have his sweet Christine with him and no one else would do.

"I only wished to stare you in the face when I tell you that Christine will never set foot in your world," Erik said with determination.

"With or without your help, I will have Christine soon enough," the Phantom said with a sorrowful sigh. If Erik would only help him, it would ease his suffering greatly. They had once been friends, had they not?

"She avoids mirrors in fear now that she has seen you! I have touched her hair and she did not even flinch. I would almost say she looked for me in a state of curiosity, maybe even wonder! She thought I might be an angel," Erik whispered. The Phantom gave a wail of sorrow and leapt at the mirror. His grotesque hands began to claw at the surface and Erik took a step back in alarm.

"Stay away from her! She was promised to me! Mine! Mine! Mine!" the Phantom hissed. Erik looked away in disgust and went to gather his cloak to leave. He glanced once more to look back at the mad specter in the mirror before making his way towards the lake.

;;

Antoinette Giry had faced many challenges in her life; but she had never been so lost until this waif of a girl had come into her life. Antoinette's life was utter chaos now with two daughters to look after.

"Christine Daae! I have told you many times to stop wandering the halls at night! How can I protect you and the other girls if you continually disobey me?" She said sternly. She knew the girl missed her father but with men like Buquet wandering the halls, Antoinette could not bear the thought of what might have happened had Buquet been completely inebriated.

"I only wished to see my father! You have me practicing all hours of the day! I have no other time to see him!" Christine yelled petulantly. "Besides, I have a guardian angel watching over me. How else would you have known that I was in trouble? Did he warn you?" Chistine asked with narrowed eyes. She knew Madame was hiding something and she wanted to know what it was. She knew her curiosity would get her in trouble one day.

"You will not come in here and disrespect me! Did you have anyone else to take you in if I had not been there? Have I given you reason to distrust me? Do not be fooled by the ones who lurk in the darkness Christine! There are many things in this Opera house that even I do not know of and I do not wish to find out. The whispers, the music from the mirrors. Do not take Meg or I for granted…we are the only allies you may have here should anything happen, " Antoinette said cryptically. Christine felt tears come to her eyes and she drew a shaky breath.

"I am sorry Madame Giry. I have let my anger consume me," Christine said with defeat. She had felt her anger building for months. The anger at her father leaving her alone in this world. The other ballet girls continuing to alienate her and whisper as she passed by them. The anger towards the mysterious music coming from the mirrors, continuing to pique her curiosity and make her question her own sanity. The ghost who always lingered in the shadows, always out of her reach.

"It is alright my child. Please…let go of your grief so it will no longer haunt you," Antoinette begged. Christine stared in awe as the hard walls of Madame Giry's façade crumbled. Christine allowed herself to be folded into the older woman's embrace and Christine finally allowed pent up tears to fall. She wailed her sorrow in gulping breaths and felt a weight lift from her chest with each heaving breath. She cried for her father, her lost childhood and broken dreams. Her grief had been plaguing her for months and she felt reborn as she finally let go.

Hours later, Christine looked up at the ceiling of the dormitory in a tired haze. She felt light and unburdened after she had left Madame Giry's room. Christine knew she would never be truly over losing her father but she knew the pain would get easier with the passage of time.

"Good night Papa. Maybe one day I will sing again but not today," she whispered to herself. As she closed her eyes, she began to hear a soft melody in the distance as it lulled her to sleep. Memories of days by the seashore, a small boy rescuing her red scarf, and nights singing with her Papa drifted behind her eyelids and she finally succumbed to sleep. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to finally face the music behind the mirror?

A small light was emitting from under Meg's bed where the soft music of the violin was playing. Upon closer inspection, a small compact mirror lay forgotten under the bed. Upon its surface were a flickering candle and two glowing, golden eyes.


End file.
